


we could live forever if you've got the time

by akamine_chan



Series: The Sharpest Lives [35]
Category: Bandom, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Community: bandom_meme, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-22
Updated: 2012-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was the only one who came out to see him in his desert hideaway these days, her and Show Pony.  And Show Pony made it out with less frequency as zie grew older and more settled into zie’s life; family and kids and all those things that zie thought that zie would never have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we could live forever if you've got the time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sylvaine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvaine/gifts).



> Quick beta by Andeincascade.
> 
> Warning for implied character death.
> 
> Written for the prompt _oh how wrong we were to think that immortality meant never dying_ from _Our Lady Of Sorrows_ by My Chemical Romance. Title stolen from _Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back_ by My Chemical Romance.

She was the only one who came out to see him in his desert hideaway these days, her and Show Pony. And Show Pony made it out with less frequency as zie grew older and more settled into zie’s life; family and kids and all those things that zie thought that zie would never have.

It was fine. He preferred it this way, actually. It helped preserve his image as a crotchety old hermit, one who took potshots at trespassers and unexpected visitors.

But she came and visited him every two weeks like clockwork, bringing him little things that made his solitary life easier to bear. Hydroponic food and gadgets from the new City growing haphazardly out of the ruins of the old.

Sometimes she brought Pony’s kids with her, sometimes she came alone and sat at his feet, leaning against his useless legs as they reminisced.

This time, she brought a quilt to help keep him warm during the cold nights in the Zones.

“Thank, sugar,” he said, examining the fine stitching between the patchwork panels of cloth. “It’s perfect.”

“And warm.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed hard, making his bones ache a little. “You’re welcome, D.”

He looked at her, remembering what she’d looked like at twelve, at sixteen, at twenty-two. In some ways, it felt like just yesterday that she’d ended up with the Killjoys, a bloodstained, wide-eyed orphan. In reality, it was a long time ago.

She’d grown into the early promise she’d shown, beautiful and strong, dark skin, light eyes and a riot of curls to rival Jet’s. D took a deep breath and found that his grief wasn’t as sharp-edged as it once was.

“Poison used to talk about immortality, about how he didn’t care about living forever as long as BL/ind was gone.”

D grunted in agreement. Poison had talked about a lot of things, most of it nonsense.

“Look.” She reached into her inner jacket pocket and pulled a pamphlet of sorts; crudely printed pages stapled together carefully. It was bright and colorful and, as D flipped through it, he came to the realization that it was a homemade comic book, starring the Fabulous Killjoys. “One of Pony’s kids picked it up at the Market; they were giving ‘em away for free. The artist is pretty talented, for someone without training.” She sat on his ratty couch and leaned in to point. “There’s Kobra fighting off a Drac with his super-awesome patented kung-fu moves.” She smiled at the green figure on the next page. “Ghoul taking out parts of the City with his explosives.” On the other pages: “Jet. Pony. You and me.” And finally, “Poison. And Gerard.”

Poison was unmistakable in this blue jacket and blood red hair, features captured remarkably well for a doodle. Gerard, too, was easily identified by his swirl of dark clothes. D touched the rough paper and closed his eyes.

“It’s more about good storytelling than historical accuracy; teaching kids about loyalty and family and being true to yourself.” She pressed an affectionate kiss to the side of D’s head.

“Pony used to tell zie’s kids stories about the Killjoys, when they were little,” he said, looking at her.

She grinned at him. “Zie wasn’t the only one.”

“Thought not.”

Touching the little cartoon Poison, she sighed. “I don’t think he would have minded this. Him or Gerard.”

“Not at all, motorbaby. Not at all.” He winked at her, and she laughed.

-fin-


End file.
